A letter

Dear baby Mango,

In about a month (you’re due in exactly 32 days), I will get to see your face for the first time. All that stuff I said about you looking like a troll in your ultrasound picture, well, it’s just my anxiety talking, mostly. People lie all the time about how cute babies are (I know because I’ve done it), and I really hope nobody has to lie to me. I guess I won’t know any different, so it’s worthless for me to worry about it, right?

This is something you’ll learn very quickly. Or rather, have to deal with as soon as you come out. I am a WORRIER. It’s what I do. I can’t help it. I come from a long line of worriers, and I really hope you end up with your Dad’s calm sensibility.

When you do come out, there will be a mass exodus to the hospital, I’m sure of it. You see, as soon as we told your grandparents and your uncles and your aunts that you were coming, they freaked out a little. Well actually, they freaked out A LOT. We were hoping for you for a very long time, and they were so happy to hear that you were on your way. It will be a little scary at first. Trust me, I know. Learning all your tias and tios will take time, but they are all fantastic in their own way.

Also, you’ll have furry friends at the house to meet. Leela was your dad and my’s first baby. I guess she’ll kind of be like a sister to you until we can give you a human one (that’s the goal, at least). She’s sweet, but you’ll need to be patient with her, because she’s kind of a big dumb. Shredder, our kitty, you probably won’t see as much because she likes to stalk birds outside all day, much to mommy’s chagrin. And of course, you’ll meet Talula, the Lazarus-chinchilla, who’s middle-aged in rodent years but is still around.

You will also have to be patient with me, little Mango. I have never been so terrified of anything in my entire life. I waited and waited for the sign that you were on your way, so much so that I took 5 tests to make sure it was really true. (5. Yes. See, there’s that worrier sensibility.) Anyway, what I really wanted to tell you is that I am very excited to start this journey with your Dad. He’s very special, and I think you’ll like him very much. Every day when he comes home from work he asks how you are, and you’re not even here yet! And when he gets to feel you move around inside my stomach, he lights up. You’ll know the face. It’ll be the same one when you can correctly identify Spiderman, The Hulk, and Invincible, who you’re named after. If you don’t learn anything else, little Mango, please know who Invincible is.

We’re pretty much ready for you to get here whenever you decide to make your appearance. Your room has been finished for weeks. I’ve washed all of your clothes and have started to pack my bag for the hospital. My friends and your grandmas had two absolutely lovely showers for us, and we pretty much received everything on our list. I hope there’s not anything that I’ve forgotten. I’m hoping really that you’ll just need me, your dad, some clothes and a few (truckload of) fresh diapers. As much as I want you to come out early, your grandma and grandpa have requested you come after they get home from Cabo on the 15th. So really, any time you want to come after that is totally fine with me.

I’m really looking forward to meeting you, little Mango. By the way, do you know that nickname will now follow you into childhood? So if you don’t like it, you don’t really have much of a choice. Just so you’re prepared. Many months back, when you were just a third of the size you were now, you were the equivalent of a mango, Daddy’s favorite fruit. (Did you know I’d never eaten a mango before I met him?) Anyway, right around that time, I couldn’t get enough of them, and it was right around the same time I started to feel you flutter around inside my stomach. So I figured, it must be because you loved mangoes so much, too. If you actually end up hating them when you come out, that’s called “irony,” something you’ll learn more about later.

So here’s the high points:

Your dad and I (and half the free world) are very excited about your arrival. You’ll meet so many new people when you come out, and it’s ok if it takes you a long time to recognize them all. Please remember to be patient with us, as we’re just as scared and nervous as you’ll probably be. Also, don’t forget your namesake and that irony can be funny.

We love you.

Love,

Momma and Daddy